


A Series of (Probably Gay) Oneshots

by leshawnas (ChronicBlandness)



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Multi, i'm probably going to end up writing a lot of characters and relationships, so imma add them as I go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicBlandness/pseuds/leshawnas
Summary: A place for me to post any writing exercises I do with these characters, any warm ups, one shots, etc.
Relationships: Courtney/Gwen (Total Drama), Heather/Leshawna (Total Drama)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	1. Wig? Snatched. (LeShawna/Heather)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little drabble of the AU I talked about on my tumblr where Heather and LeShawna stay friends after TDA and...well, why don't you just read it?

Okay, on second thought, these wigs fucking suck.

Heather throws the clump of wigs in her hands on the bed. She's tired of wearing that god awful afro wig. But she'll be damned if she ever even gets caught dead with those wigs from the shop. She dropped hundreds on these, and for what? They had looked nice in the shop, but she looks back at the pile and...god. Fucking loser wig shop.

Heather is tempted to ask LeShawna for that ratty cave girl wig back, but she's reminded of the _dis-gross-ting_ smell of rotting meat, and fear, and regrets, and no, absolutely not. There's nothing that she wants more than to forget the past few months of her life even happened.

She catches her reflection in her vanity mirror.

Of course, forgetting has proven to be difficult thus far.

Given that she has essentially a souvenir of the most traumatic experience of her 16 years of living, could anyone blame her? She turns away from the mirror. She feels her eyes start to sting. Hell no, she's not doing this right now. Heather pinches the bridge of her nose. Fuck, this sucks.

By habit, she runs her hand through her hair. Heather only registers that she even does it when her hand gets to her neck, and she doesn't have to shake the rest off her fingers. She blanches. The tears start up again and they're harder to stop. Heather sits on her bed and falls back. Maybe if she closes her eyes, she'll sink into the mattress forever.

God, she's starting to sound like Sarah McLachlan.

"You know, all that brooding you're doing is gonna get annoying real quick." Heather sits back up and LeShawna is still perched on the desk with a magazine, completely unbothered. Tch. At least someone is comfortable.

Heather scoffs and looks away. "What?"

LeShawna glances up and arches an eyebrow. "I can hear the cogs in there."

"Well, I'm sorry that some of us are having a crisis. Not everyone can just settle with a five dollar weave." Yes, deflect. Get a jab in. Meaningless back and forth with LeShawna is the perfect distraction from a potential wallowing in a pool of suck. This is normal.

"At least I have hair." Heather can hear the smirk in her voice and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Heather," LeShawna starts, "you need to stop worrying about the whole short hair thing. You look fine." Heather rolls her eyes. The absolute last thing she needs right now is pity. Especially from _her_.

"Oh, puh-lease. I don't want to hear this." She's hoping that the finality in her voice will make LeShawna back off, or maybe even leave and go home. Of course though, in true LeShawna fashion, she doesn't back down from the challenge.

She hops off the desk and makes her way over. Heather can feel the bed shift. 

"Look, I'm only gonna say this once so it doesn't go to your head. Even if you don't have your long hair, you're gorgeous. Stunning. A knockout. You wanna hear _that_?" Heather scans LeShawna's face and body language for any sign of bullshit. Heather had learned early on on Island that LeShawna is a woefully transparent person. Instead of lies, Heather finds her eyes grazing across her features. 

Heather is very familiar with the concept of invading personal space when it comes to LeShawna. But with being preoccupied with tearing each other down, Heather obviously never stops to look at her eyes. And how they always seem to catch the light just right. And how her skin shines and Heather wonders what her skin regime is, if she even has one. Her eyes happen to flit down to her lips and-

Heather pauses. Well, _that's_ new.

LeShawna shakes her head, grabs the remote, and turns on the television. Falling back on the bed, she flashes Heather a smile. "So, are you done for now? What'll it be today, Bad Girls Club or Real Housewives?"

"Bad Girls Club. Obviously." She rolls her eyes, hoping that little touch distracts from how Heather was unabashedly staring at LeShawna for ten full seconds. She throws her a smirk just to seal the deal.

As they're five minutes in and a fight has already started on the show, Heather looks over at LeShawna, engrossed in the program. Either LeShawna doesn't notice the shift in the mood or she does and she's choosing to ignore it. Either way, it's good for Heather. At least for now.

Heather decides that that's a problem for later, but for now, she's content.

It's something that she rarely gets to feel.


	2. Chili's? How very gay of you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College AU, pre-LeSheather in between that weird "more than friends, but not a couple" area.
> 
> Gwen and Courtney drag LeShawna with them to Chili's. Heather gets invited by proxy. Based on the dialogue prompt, "It's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling."

Who even eats lunch at Chili’s?

Of course two of the lamest people on the planet choose the most mediocre restaurant their stale little minds could conjure.

LeShawna and Heather’s dorm room sizzles with the energy of people who would much rather do anything else. Heather drags out the process of doing her makeup. Her roommate peruses through the closet.

Courtney and Gwen earlier this week asked LeShawna to come with them on yet another outing. When Heather came across the group, (strictly to talk to LeShawna, mind you) she was unenthusiastically roped in. She only said yes in the hopes that she would get chances to embarrass some losers. But is this really worth it?

The cafe on Roosevelt would have been way more appropriate and hipster enough for Gwen. Hell, she could’ve settled for driving 20 minutes to Red Lobster. Heather smirks. Anything to see Courtney’s face swell up. No. It’s Chili’s.

At least it wasn’t Applebee’s.

LeShawna drags her fingers across the coats and blouses. Her hands stop on a jean jacket and she pulls it out. With the hanger still on, she places it on top and gestures to Heather. Heather waves an arm towards her and goes back to her makeup.

“You definitely look like you wanna do this.” LeShawna’s voice is tinged with a smile.

“This double date better not take all afternoon.” Wait, that's not what she meant. Oh, God. Heather turns around in her chair. She opens her mouth to correct but-

“It’s not a double date,” LeShawna says, “we’re just third and fourth wheeling.” She shrugs the jacket on and shimmies to music that Heather blocked out before now. Heather has to force her eyes to stay around the shoulder area. That’s something she’s had to do since Labor Day weekend. She’s not ready to think about what that means.

"I'm only gonna ask you for one favor. Please don't try and stir stuff up." Oh, please. That's a pretty tall order for someone who didn't even get formally invited to this stupid thing. Stirring things up is exactly the reason _why_ she's going in the first place. But she could probably stand to be civil. At least until they start doing something dumb and gay.

"Fine. But the moment they start giggling or sucking face or whatever, It's over. We're taking separate cars, by the way. There's no way I'm riding in the back of Courtney's Nissan."

* * *

She gives them a month, at most.

They're all engrossed in their food and Heather occasionally looks up assess the situation. Courtney and Gwen, clearly in the honeymoon stage, sit way too close to each other. Between bites and responding to LeShawna, they steal looks at each other. Yuck. They're already gross enough apart, do they really have to be even grosser together?

Maybe she'll drown in five dollar margaritas instead of eating. Wait, that's Applebee's, isn't it?

And she has to drive anyway. Damn it.

By the fifth time they catch each other's eye, they break into giggles. Shrill, annoying, bubbly giggles.

"I'm doing it," Heather whispers.

"Don't-"

“All this love is so inspiring. I wonder how Duncan feels about any of this.” At the word 'Duncan' all the energy drops from the table. The Duncan Situation, as it's lovingly called transpired sophomore year. No one except Courtney and Gwen really know what went down, but it wasn't pretty.

Courtney clears her throat. “I don’t think it should matter considering that we’re two college girls independent of a man and living our lives to the fullest.” She plasters on a tight smile.

“Oh, sure. Independent of a man but totally _dependent_ on each other. That’s really empowering, Courtney.” Oh, yeah. This is definitely working for her.

“Uh, I think I should flag down the servers for refills now, right LeShawna?” Gwen looks to LeShawna, desperation abundant in her expression.

“It’s called female solidarity.”

Heather snorts. “More like joining the GSA, carabiners, and wearing Birkenstocks.”

“Yeah, maybe you should join us, Heather,” Gwen chimes in. She's about to raise her hand for the waitress but halts. Heather whips her head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gwen's eyes widen, sheepish. “Oh! Well, Courtney and I have inside joke—“

“Anyone with eyes can see that you spend pretty much all your time with LeShawna. Maybe you would benefit from the GSA too?” Courtney's bright voice grates and a sly smiles slides on. Heather looks at LeShawna and she's pinching her nose between her fingers.

Everything hangs there. Heather's frozen. She's processing LeShawna, Gwen's pasty, gaping face. But it's Courtney's smugness that really calls to her.

Heather breathes. “You think you’re so clever and perfect, But you’re just a scared little girl hiding behind her weird goth girlfriend because she can’t get her street rat back so you settle for the low rent version.”

“Excuse me? You don’t know what you're talking about—“ The sound of a mic feedback and tapping cuts Courtney off. Looking to the source of the sound, there's a...stage. What? Was that always there?

Trent, from Heather's macroeconomics class last year, walks on along with a drummer and a keyboard player. He's got his guitar. Oh, hell no.

“Uh, hey everybody. I’m Trent, the lead singer of 9ine and we’re here to entertain you a bit.”

Heather whips out her purse and smacks down some bills. Nope. Absolutely not. "Give me a freaking break. Come on, LeShawna we're leaving." She launches out of the booth and marches towards the exit, shoving pasts a few servers. The first chord rings out in the building before she explodes through the double doors.

* * *

The breeze hits her and the sun stings her eyes. She pulls sunglasses out and stomps towards the car. As it turns out, that really _wasn't_ worth it.

"You wanna tell me what the hell that was?" LeShawna's voice rings. Even though Heather's gotten pretty far and even with her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Heather stops, briefly considering turning around. She doesn't and keeps walking to the car.

"Heather!"

"I heard you the first time!" Heather yanks the car door open.

"So, am I getting an answer or-"

"LeShawna, there are plenty of places where I can stand to argue with you. The Chili's parking lot at 2 pm is not one of them." She sighs heavily. "Are you getting in or am I leaving you with the lovebirds?"

LeShawna sighs and picks up the pace. Yeah. That sounds about right.

They get out of the Chili's parking lot and stop at a red light. In a perfect world, Heather would be listening to the music playing on the radio right now and not whatever LeShawna had to say. Clearly, that wasn't going to happen. LeShawna reaches and turns the volume down. They sit.

“Why do you do this?" LeShawna asks. "I asked you for one thing.”

“I told you all bets were off when they start getting wrapped up in their gross pheromones.” And God, were they gross.

“I’m a grown woman. I didn’t need your help!”

“Clearly you did because you didn’t say anything!”

“When did Miss High and Mighty decide she wanted to get all in my personal business, anyway?”

“When you...became the closest thing I have to a friend.” Her voice falters towards the end. God, that sounded pathetic. And apparently LeShawna also catches it because the air in the car relaxes. Everything starts to settle.

“Girl, I think we’re past that.”

“Fine. I guess we’re friends.”

“Did you have to bring up Duncan, though?”

Heather smirks. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like seeing Courtney get uncomfortable at least a bit.”

“I..." LeShawna bites down on her lip. She fights to keep a smile off. "Nope.”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

“And you’re a shitty date.”

“So it was a date!”

“A friend date!”

“You can’t backtrack and change what you mean. That’s so not how it works!”

“Says who?”

“Me. Just now. For the record, I've been told I'm a great date.” She pulls into the dorm parking lot and puts it in park. Their banter hangs in the air and Heather is satisfied. They could go on like this for hours and she wouldn't get tired of it. Maybe she should-

“Alright, maybe you should put your money where your mouth is.”

“Excuse me?”

LeShawna stares off. “I mean, maybe Courtney did have a point. We are close and…” She looks at Heather and raises her eyebrows.

No freaking way. 

“You like me, " Heather states, "oh, this is _perfect_.” 

“Heather!” LeShawna's hands come up to her face

“I’m just saying it’s about time you developed a sense of taste.” Inside her heart races and warmth rushes to her face. She hopes her behavior on the outside covers it up, but LeShawna's always been pretty intuitive.

“Yeah, yeah what are you gonna do about it?” LeShawna peeks through her fingers and smirks. Oh, she knows.

Heather clears her throat. “I think I’ll take that offer—“

“Oh no, no, no. You’re gonna have to come up with a pretty good argument, now.” She’s got a twinkle in her eyes. Heather now officially gets why Harold spent the past two years chasing after her. She _knows_.

Her heart slams against her chest and she has to lean against the steering wheel to brace herself. Maybe LeShawna also hears it. God, that would be devastating. Get it together. 

Who cares if this might ruin the only friendship she’s ever had? Tell that to her heart that's still pounding, son of a-

Fuck it.

She unbuckles her seat belt and rests her sunglasses on her head. Reaching over, she eases LeShawna's hand off her face and cups her cheek. LeShawna's expression is unreadable but her mother didn't raise a coward. 

She kisses her.

And she kisses back.

They're kissing, oh God. LeShawna's lips are soft and full of promises that she wants to keep. Her hands move to grab the back of her neck, careful not to touch her hair. LeShawna's own hands grip her arms and pull her closer, closer. Heather smirks into each kiss. She won.

Heather fully intends to keep winning, but hoots and hollers pass by the car. They break apart, LeShawna reeling. Outside, a couple of boys walk by a whistling at them. Ugh.

LeShawna fans herself. 

Heather throws the boys a middle finger and turns the car back on. Could she get away with "accidentally" hitting them while backing out? No, that would probably ruin the mood. She decides to wait for them to get out of the way completely and pulls out.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Taking you on a date. Clearview Mall’s got a ton of sales right now and zero chances of running into boring white boys with guitars.” Heather rolls the windows down and pops her sunglasses back on.

LeShawna breathes out a little laugh and reclines back.

When they get to a red light, Heather looks over at LeShawna. Their eyes lock. LeShawna’s resting her head on her hand, with a satisfied smile that makes a warmth flutter in her heart.

She guesses that’s something she’ll have to get used to.


End file.
